


Free and Easy (Down the Road We Go)

by allouette



Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:10:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allouette/pseuds/allouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam plays groupie. Blake thinks it's <i>awesome.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Free and Easy (Down the Road We Go)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BFive0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BFive0/gifts).



> Happy (belated) Birthday, Bubbles!

"You were amazing up there tonight."

Adam's voice is the first thing Blake hears when he sets foot on his tour bus. It's completely unexpected but not at all unwelcome, and Blake smiles when he spots Adam sprawled out on one of the sofas that line the side of the bus.

"What the hell are you doin' here?"

"Surprise?" Adam answers with a grin as he pushes himself up, meeting Blake half way down the aisle. 

Blake is still buzzing from the high he always gets when he's on stage, adrenaline and endorphins pumping through his veins. Adam grabs onto the ends of the towel Blake has draped around his neck (because he still feels like he's drenched in sweat regardless of having changed his shirt backstage), pulling him closer, right into a slow, sweet kiss. Blake lets out a soft sigh as his hands automatically go to two of their favorite places to rest: the left landing on one of Adam's bony hips and the right on the side his neck, always so tempting and hard to resist. Adam smiles against Blake's mouth, easing back just enough to murmur a low, "hi," and Blake knows that the dimples are out in full force without even opening his eyes.

"Hi," Blake returns, slightly more gravel in his voice than usual from the overuse it gets when he's touring and doesn't rest it properly. The drinking absolutely doesn't help, but what does he care? "How long've you been here?"

"Mm, about an hour and a half-ish," Adam says, grinning faintly when Blake takes a few steps forward, then a few more, pushing them toward the back of the bus. "Long enough to hear you tell a huge number of people how sexy you think I am. I would've been more impressed if you sang one of my songs instead of Cee Lo's, though."

Blake huffs out a laugh, tracing the line of Adam's jaw with his thumb. "I'm sorry I like his music better than that crap you put out."

"Sure. That's why you made your team sing one of my songs with you while you eye-fucked me on national television."

"Hey, it got me you, didn’t it?”

Adam rolls his eyes and pulls the towel from around Blake's neck, dropping it on the ground. He trails his fingers along the row of buttons on the front of Blake's shirt, feeling heat radiate through worn cotton, slowly popping them open one by one. 

"How long are you stayin'?" Blake asks when they get to the makeshift bedroom at the back of the bus. It's small, but it's better than trying to squeeze into a bunk that Blake could barely fold himself into when he was struggling and had no other choice; he thanks God often that he doesn't really have to do that at all anymore these days. He drags his hands along Adam's sides, letting them both settle on those slender hips, pulling their bodies flush together.

Adam shrugs a shoulder, wraps his arms up around Blake's neck once he's finished unbuttoning his shirt. "A day or two. 'Til after your next stop, I guess. Whenever. Want me to be your groupie, Shelton?"

Blake can't help but laugh. "A groupie I can actually sleep with? Hell yeah, that would be _awesome_."

"You're so easy sometimes, Blake."

"Only for you, groupie," Blake replies with a grin, curling his fingers in the hem of Adam's shirt before he pulls it up and off over his head.

"What, you think just because I'm your groupie, I'm automatically gonna drop my pants for you?"

"You say that like you're not," Blake says rather matter-of-factly, a little too sure of himself with the way his eyes are trained on Adam's mouth, fingertips tracing over the ink on Adam's chest.

"Maybe I'm a high class groupie, asshole," Adam says, taking mock offense to that statement. "And don't you even laugh at that or I'll kick your ass."

Blake fights for a few seconds to keep a straight face, he really does, but fails quickly. The grin breaks free first, followed by the chuckles, until he full out laughs because he truly finds Adam hilarious more often than not. Adam lands a fist in his stomach with enough force to be considered a love tap, and all it does is make Blake laugh harder.

"I really hate you sometimes, you do know that, right?" Adam asks, trying his best not to smile but that's usually impossible around Blake.

Blake drags his fingers along the waistband of Adam's jeans, stopping long enough to pop open the button, still grinning as he nods his head. "Right. I believe you."

"You should believe me because I mean what I say, god _damn it_ ," Adam says, the last part coming out in a gasp when Blake's mouth suddenly latches onto his neck - hot, wet suction and scraping teeth. He doesn't pull away until he's left his mark behind, glaring angry red against pale skin. 

Adam opens his mouth to speak again, but Blake quickly cuts him off with a kiss, big hands coming up to cradle the sides of his face. Adam is really kind of in love with the way Blake kisses, how Blake makes him feel it all the way down to his toes. It's like there's no possible way for him to ever get enough, and Adam is more than willing to keep on giving, even when he's starting to get dizzy and needs to breathe. His jeans are being tugged down and Blake's growl against his mouth is unmistakable; Adam knows that sound, is so very familiar with it and can't help but grin, laughter bubbling just below the surface as Blake gets his fingers curled around that tight denim just right and yanks hard.

"I know, I know, you hate my pants," Adam says when the kiss finally falls apart completely, pulling his jeans the rest of the way off as he sits down on the bed.

"You're damn right I do," Blake agrees, and he's pushing Adam back on the bed, shrugging out of his shirt. "But I love it when you wear nothing under them."

Adam just flashes a grin before he hauls Blake in for another kiss, deep and hungry from the word go because he's tired of talking now. He gets his hands on the front of Blake's jeans, works them open as he sucks on his tongue and it's a little ridiculous how he can still taste the rum Blake had been drinking on stage. Blake all but shudders above him and Adam's barely even touched him yet, just the teasing brush of fingers as he takes longer than necessary to tug at Blake's zipper. He does it with purpose, to distract Blake before he takes control of the next series of kisses, tangling his fingers in sweat damp hair, the other hand sliding down the back of Blake's jeans. That move alone is enough to make Blake groan, breaking away from his mouth with a low, "fuck," Adam smirking as he drags his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Check the pillow," Adam says, and Blake blinks, confusion written all over his face. He reaches for the pillow next to Adam's head, hand sliding underneath, and Blake goes from confused to amused in a second. "I came prepared. Go ahead, call me a boy scout."

"Because that's not creepy or weird at all," Blake replies, fingers wet now as he shifts over Adam, spreads his legs wider. 

"Oh, what the hell, what--" Blake says next because two of his fingers slide into Adam's body way too easily and he's already slick inside, and something in Blake's head breaks as he tries to process what's happening and why.

"Surprise again?" Adam offers, but it's weak because Blake's fingers twist right at that moment and Adam has already been like this, on edge, for a while now. "Told you I was prepared."

Blake sucks in a breath, eyes closing, lost for a moment at how easily Adam makes him almost fall apart. "My god, and I thought you were supposed to be a high class groupie."

"Hey, I am! That doesn't mean I don't have needs. And why is this taking so long? I was really hoping we could skip the foreplay during round one and go straight for the gold. I didn't do this to myself for nothing, Blake, _come on_ ," Adam says, begs really, and Blake's mouth is on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as his hand slips away. 

There's a kiss, a quick bite before they're both working to get Blake out of the rest of his clothes. It would be comical if they weren't suddenly teetering on the edge of desperate and when Blake finally sinks inside, Adam's up on his hands and knees with Blake behind him, and he does nothing to muffle the heartfelt groan that says fucking _finally_. It's not a well thought out position because as soon as they get a good rhythm going, nice and steady and perfect, the bus makes a long, sharp turn somewhere and they're pitched sideways, suddenly off balance. Adam yelps and lets out a colorful string of curses, and Blake can't stop laughing, his hands smoothing over Adam's hips, along his sides.

"Glad you find this so fucking funny, Shelton," Adam grumbles, or at least he tries to but there's laughter in his voice and ugh, he just wants to get laid already, damn it. "We like straight lines, driver!"

"I don't think he can hear you," Blake says as he pretty much manhandles Adam into position under him again, closer to the bed this time, and oh, closer is so much better, bracing himself up on his forearms. "At least we didn't hit the floor?"

"You're ridiculous," is Adam's answer, coming out with a sigh as Blake starts moving again. His thrusts are more shallow this way, less leverage, and Adam knows he's going to go batshit insane before all is said and done, but there's something about the slow drag, the way Blake's draped over him like a blanket, Blake's mouth against the back of his neck, the rough scratch of beard burn - he thinks he could die happily right here, wrapped up in this smoldering heat. He covers one of Blake's hands with his own, hooks their fingers together and holds on tight. 

Blake is always quiet when they do this, something that surprised Adam considering how hard it is to shut Blake up any other time, so he didn't think sex would be much different. He was sort of looking forward to it, actually, wondering how mouthy Blake would be in bed and the kind of filth he could get to spill out and how it would sound with a twang. But there's only grunts and groans, the occasional _fuck_ and _ah_. And then there's Adam's favorite, the times when Blake's voice pitches low and he lets out a moaned _Adam_ in his ear. He loves the sound of it, the way it raises goosebumps on his skin despite the sweat, the way it makes his toes curl, how it usually means Blake is close. 

And how Blake is saying it right now?

"Seriously? Already?" Adam breathes out - whines is more like it, even though the shiver is still there at the sound of his name in his ear.

There's a momentary stutter in Blake's movements when he asks, "what?" before he thrusts in hard, pushing a groan out of Adam. "No, shut up. I was havin' a moment that you just ruined. Thanks for that, jackass."

"Oh god, do that again," is Adam's only response, so Blake rears back slowly, as far as their current position will let him, before he thrusts back in hard. He does it again and again, over and over until Adam is a writhing, babbling mess beneath him.

"Jesus fuck, Blake," he groans as his free hand slaps against what would be the headboard because Blake has very literally fucked him up the bed, pressing back against the unrelenting force behind him. "Oh god, I need--"

"Yeah," Blake responds, beard scraping against Adam's shoulder. "Yeah," he says again and slips a hand down, wraps long fingers around Adam's cock.

There's nothing slow or gentle about the way Blake touches him now, his strokes long and steady, slick with precome. And now Adam is really fucked, unraveling at the seams as he's rocked forward into Blake's hand, backward onto Blake's dick, and when he comes, it's with a shout, spilling hot over Blake's fingers. He thinks he misses it through the haze of orgasm because the next thing he knows, Blake's teeth are sinking into the back of his neck and his fingers are being crushed, Blake's hips jerking roughly one last time, everything but Adam's name in his ear. 

He leans back against Blake's chest as they both catch their breath in a sweaty heap in the middle of the bed, hearts pounding wildly for a few long moments. Adam unhooks his fingers one at a time from Blake's, flexes them and shakes his hand out before he takes hold of Blake's hand again, bringing it up to his lips. 

"I'm sorry I ruined your moment," he murmurs against warm skin. "I'm the worst groupie ever."

Blake snorts softly, his fingers curling around Adam's. "You're the best groupie ever, what're you talkin' about?"

"Tell the truth, am I your only groupie ever?" he asks with a smirk, cannot even resist.

"Shut up, Adam."

Adam laughs as Blake pulls away, forcing himself up with a groan to take care of clean up. When he settles again, Adam sprawls out across his chest, legs tangled together, shifting and nuzzling until he's comfortable. Blake just lets himself be used as a human pillow and drags the sheet up over them, trailing his fingers along Adam's back. They travel up Adam's neck and into his hair, treading through the sweat soaked strands and tugging lightly until he lifts his head just enough for Blake to lean in and press their mouths together, the kiss slow and warm.

"In case I forget to say it later," Blake says softly between kisses, his voice a low rumble. "I'm really glad you're here."

Adam flashes a smile, a lazy tug at the corners of his mouth. "Why do you think I’m here? There's nowhere else I'd rather be."


End file.
